


And She Rises from the Ashes...

by PoeticEmptiness



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Gen, Mild Blood, POV First Person, Pre-Canon, Resurrection, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticEmptiness/pseuds/PoeticEmptiness
Summary: The bird is a phoenix; when it dies, it catches fire, turns to ashes and rises from the dust young and proud again. The pieces fall into place and the abyss gaping inside me finally fills up completely. Suddenly I'm overcome by an avalanche of countless emotions – I can't even name half of them. I'm overwhelmed by the pressure caused by them and in front of my eyes are flashing images which I don't recognize and of which I can't make sense. What does this mean? I understand nothing about anything...
Kudos: 4





	And She Rises from the Ashes...

Darkness.  
Only darkness.  
Actually, it's embrace feels comforting – I don't know anything else. Before, I wasn't even aware that I would have been somewhere. I'm not sure, how long I have been or even what I am, but it doesn't bother me. I'm safe, that's what matters the most. I'm floating in a dark emptiness, without worries, without sorrows. Everything just is, and I'm feeling serene.

Peace is broken when something hovers on the frontiers of my perception. I shift my gaze to the vacillation and I get confused; it's a bird. A very miserable-looking bird. It may have been a powerful and noble creature before, but now it looks very tired and sick. The glint on its gray feathers has faded and the plumage is full of gaping openings – I can see its raw skin. The creature is laying still, its wings sprawling helplessly. Its breath rattles, as if it were desperately trying to fight to draw air through its lungs. The bird's eyes are closed.

I find myself gliding closer to the bird. I want to touch its gaunt body, although at the same time the thought disgusts me. The creature senses my presence; it raises its head a hint and slowly opens its eyes. Our eyes meet and I flinch, because the bird's eyes are crimson. I'm filled with indescribable pain – it's stabbing, excruciating and suffocating. Suddenly blood appears on the ground. The puddle just keeps growing and I smell a bitter smoke in the air. There's something else in the smoke, but I can't name it – the smell makes me sick.

Blood doesn't touch me, but the puddle ominously approaches the bird lying on the ground. I don't know why, but I'm worried about that ruin of a bird. I try to approach it to take it in my arms, safe from the touch of blood, but there seems to be an invisible wall between us that I can't get through. The harder I try to get to the bird, the more persistently the wall seems to resist me. I'm staring desperately as the puddle of blood approaches the bird – just a few inches and it would touch the bird's feathers. The bird cackles desperately, but is unable to escape the path of the red gore. I feel helpless when I can do nothing but witness this macabre sight...

The bird gasps intermittently when it's completely surrounded by blood. My pain is getting worse and a cry of pain escapes my mouth. However, I can't turn my gaze away from the bird – I'm forced to look. Blood penetrates the bird's beak and I try to slam against the energy field which keeps me away from the bird. Still, it's pointless; nothing can be done. As the bird croaks while choking, the blood begins to bubble, to boil. Just without warning, the blood catches fire and swallows the bird with it. I try to shout, but this time the sound dies in my throat, as if I didn't exist. Flames are burning so brightly that seeing them hurts my eyes. Suddenly, the flames explode; an invisible wall breaks down with the force of a blow and I'm thrown into the ground.

I'm feeling dizzy. The pain is gone, but it's replaced by a gaping emptiness – as if there were a mere gap inside me into which everything falls. I'm looking for a place where the bird was. All that remains is ash. I rise up a little and manage to struggle my way closer to the pile of ashes. This time nothing's preventing me from reaching my destination. I guess I'm supposed to feel sad, but I can't feel anything – as if I'm dead inside. My state is eating me alive, carving the gap even deeper. I suddenly become aware of my hands and my mind is filled with desire to dunk my fingers into the ashes. Carefully, I first place my hands on top of the pile of ashes, but soon I immerse my fingers in the dark gray dust. I'd like to bury myself completely under it, return to the darkness without any pain, horror or emptiness.

I feel something moving inside the pile of ashes. I draw my hands away in surprise and look at the pile expectantly. I think I'm holding my breath, I'm not sure... A head, a bird's head, peeks out of the ashes. Its feathers are green except for a purple tuft on its head. Its beak is the same hue as the tuft. I'm confused; is this the same bird that a moment ago was lying on the ground gray, sick and helpless? The head is similar except for the colouring. How on earth is that possible? I approach the bird cautiously to touch it, for my curiosity overcomes my stupefaction. Just as my fingers are about to touch the bird's head, it opens its eyes; they are no longer red, but blue.

Our gazes meet and I feel like I know this bird – I just can't call up how this would be possible. The bird's looking at me with knowing, understanding look. Those eyes... Why do they look so familiar..? My head is filled with numerous questions, but I can't get a hold on any of them. However, the bird doesn't allow me to ponder the mystery for any longer, as it shakes the ashes off it, revealing the rest of its body; also its torso is covered with green and purple feathers. Now they are shiny and the bare patches of its skin are nothing but a memory. I'm looking at the the creature enchanted, but don't dare to approach it. The bird is still examining me, but instead of reserve I think I'm sensing friendliness from its gaze.

The abyss that gaped within me seems to gradually fill with the power of the bird's gaze. I'm filled with inexplicable sense of companionship and I decide to try to approach the bird. I move slowly and keep my hands so that the bird can see them all the time. It doesn't back off or ruffle its feathers, but lets me come to it. I carefully place my hand on its pate, and when it doesn't try to break away from my touch, I stroke its head lightly. The feathers feel soft and strong at the same time – resilient. After a while, the bird takes a few steps to get closer to me and nuzzles its head against my palm. The bird blinks a couple of times and from its eyes start to flow tears that fall on my hand. They feel hot but not burning against my skin, and the heat spreads all over my body.

That's right! How can I forget? The bird is a phoenix; when it dies, it catches fire, turns to ashes and rises from the dust young and proud again. The pieces fall into place and the abyss gaping inside me finally fills up completely. Suddenly I'm overcome by an avalanche of countless emotions – I can't even name half of them. I'm overwhelmed by the pressure caused by them and in front of my eyes are flashing images which I don't recognize and of which I can't make sense. What does this mean? I understand nothing about anything... These stimuli exceed my endurance and I feel tears tingling in the corner of my eyes. Eventually one of them gets free and runs along my cheek. From my jaw it falls on the head of the phoenix. The feathers that my tear touches start to glow.

I startle, but the phoenix pecks my finger friendly and retreats a few steps. Its eyes seem to brighten even more and the rest of its feathers are starting to glow. It spreads its wings and rises into the air, puffing the ashes around it. The sight is unbelievable: the feathers of the phoenix illuminate the darkness with its splendor and I feel the power of the bird within me. I stand up and and stare at the phoenix whose wings support it a few feet above the ground. It's looking at me evaluating, waiting. I'm starting to get scared because the safe darkness, that embraced me, has disappeared and my head is teeming with sounds and images that I still don't understand.

”What do you want from me?” I ask from the bird. I startle at my voice; it doesn't feel like my own and breaks at the last word. What is really going on here, I want to return to peace... I'm trying to back away, but my back hits a wall. The phoenix senses panic in my gaze and its eyes fill with gentleness. It shouldn't be possible, but it seems like the bird is smiling at me. Suddenly I hear a sound in my head that isn't my own thought:

_”Don't be afraid. Everything's fine. Embrace yourself.”_

Embrace yourself? A moment ago I didn't even know that I exist! What exactly does the phoenix mean? My brain is in a whirl, but on the other hand the bird's voice sounded familiar – like someone I can trust. I don't understand anything about anything. Everything is just a mess in my head and I'm not sure if I should try to escape. However, the bird is still looking at me, I can't dodge its gaze. The phoenix no longer speaks to me in words, but its gaze says a lot. It wants me to be brave, to remember my strength. How can it trust me when I'm anything but brave or strong? I'm afraid. I wouldn't want to leave here, but the bird is calling me and I can't run away... However, alongside my doubts, curiosity also creeps; what if everything were different? Could all of this have any purpose? I'm still afraid, but something encourages me to try. I can't speak, but I nod to the bird. Incredibly, the phoenix starts to smile and rises a little higher than before. My eyes are nailed to its own and we're just looking at each other. I'm ready.

Then, the phoenix opens its beak and lets out a triumphant shriek. It's shaking my whole being and I see just white – the bird has disappeared somewhere. I feel like I'm falling apart...

...I'm gasping for air rapidly. I feel something wet on my face and I open my eyes. Someone's holding me in their arms and turns to meet my gaze. White hair and violet, magnetic eyes. Eyes full of tears. The character's face turns into a smile and they exclaim with joy,  
”Hande! You're here, you're really here! Thank the Arcana, it's really you!”

I'm scared. Who's that creature? Who am I? Where am I? What's happening? The character pulls me against themselves, but I flinch. I try to disengage from their grip, but my limbs disobey me – my hands just flutter in the air recklessly.

”Asra... She doesn't... I think she doesn't know you.”

I startle and turn my gaze in the direction of the sound. I face a tall, muscular figure. They have penetrating green eyes that are partially hidden under a black bush of hair. Who are these people? What do they want from me? The person who holds me looks at their comrade confused,  
”What do you mean, Muriel? Of course she knows me!”

”Just look at her! She's afraid of us...”

The look of the violet-eyed person becomes pensive and they turn to scrutiny me. They notice the fear on my face and become sad looking. The tears are still flowing in full force on their face and some of them fall on me. The figure tries to smile and starts to stroke my cheek carefully.  
”It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Do you know me?”

I open my mouth to answer, but only a helpless yelp escapes my throat. I can't speak... I get even more distressed and my breathing speeds up. What's happened to me? Why can I understand that person but not talk? How can I now find out, who I am? The violet-eye seems to understand what it's all about and starts talking to me reassuringly:

”You must have forgotten... Then I'll help you; I'm Asra and my companion over there is Muriel. You're our friend. Do you know your name?”

Asra... Muriel... I notice the green-eye standing farther, Muriel, turning up their nose after Asra says the words ”our friend”. However, I decide to ignore it and respond to Asra. I'm not sure how it's done, but my body seems to work on its own: I shake my head. Asra's expression becomes even gloomier and he closes his eyes for a moment. After opening them he whispers,  
”Hande. Your name is Hande. We're at your home. You're safe.”

I don't understand... That name, which Asra claims to be my own, doesn't feel like mine and I don't recognize the walls around us. I can't move or talk and I'm scared. All of this is too much for me and my eyes fill with tears. Asra looks worried and his own tears start to flow again. He lifts me gently and closes me in his arms. He feels strong and warm.

”Oh Hande... Forgive me, forgive me... I'll take care of you, I promise... I will never leave you alone again, never...”

Muriel paces cautiously towards us and lays his hand on Asra's shoulder. He and Asra radiate warmth that makes me feel calm. I feel safe.

Maybe I'll survive.


End file.
